I feel guilty every single day.  I know that I couldn't have saved her, I know that there's no way I could have known, I know that it wasn't my fault...but the guilt is horrible.  She cried every day when I left her there, but the provider insisted that it was only for a few minutes and when I picked her up she was always great and fine and everything was okay, so I called it separation anxiety.  I realize that when things like this happen  the mind remembers things differently, example: I am convinced that her cry was different that morning.  Whether it was or wasn't I honestly don't know.  What I do know, is that my urge to just take the girls and leave that day was stronger  than normal.  Maybe it's becuase I just didn't want to go to work, or maybe it's just another thing my mind is doing to torture myself.  The most recent bout of guilt is over the snow....I chose to bury my baby because the thought of her tiny body being burned to ash was just too much...but now there are several inches of snow on the ground and all I can think is that I left my baby out in the cold.  Logically I know that this is ridiculous, I know that it is only her shell out there and that her tiny angel spirit is perfectly fine and safe and warm...but every time I go to the cemetary all I can think is, "I hope she's okay, I should have buried her with a warmer blanket, I hope she's okay..."  Tonight I went out, brushed the snow off of her, and someone had put a blanket on her grave...I don't know who did it, but if you ever read this, thank you.  Thank you for sharing my thoughts. I miss her so much.  Even on good days I feel like someone is punching me in the stomach with every breath...and that's on the best of the good days...

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